Prince Hagané sat alone in the great room, immediately surrounded by boxes and trays with tea, writing, and smoking outfits. There was one beautiful hibachi, or firepot, of hammered brass. An English book on International Law lay on the floor beside him among newspapers in Japanese, Chinese, English, French, and German. Passages in these papers had been heavily marked by the blue and red pencil still held in the reader's hand. He did not rise or bow as Tetsujo entered, merely turning his face toward the opened fusuma and saying, "Most welcome, good Tetsujo. Enter and forget the storm." "I fear I have brought the storm in with me, your Highness," Tetsujo could not refrain from crying. He fell on his knees just within the door, bowed many times, and drew in his breath loudly. Hagané lifted an unread newspaper and made several markings while Tetsujo continued his genuflections. Having at last completed a number satisfactory to his sense of propriety, he sat upright. Hagané folded this last paper, and put it into a heap with the others. "Draw nearer," he said with a smile. "It is a day for a chat between old friends. No, be not so humble--nearer yet--I insist. Now--that is better and more companionable. Pour yourself some tea." "Honors are heaped upon your unworthy servant," rejoined Onda, pouring tea, first for the prince, then for himself. "I have just come from the official residence of your Highness. How cold and un-homelike appear all foreign houses; while this--" he paused to look slowly around--"this warms a man's heart to see." "Though insignificant, it has a certain restfulness," admitted the host. "Lacking a mistress, it cannot seem in reality a home." Tetsujo's face clouded. "Speak not to me of mistresses, Lord," he mumbled sourly. Hagané gave him a queer glance, but said nothing. He understood well the nature of his own kerai. So angular a thought as now distressed him must soon work its way to the surface of speech. "To-day I am in mind of the Chinese sage who taught us that all women are mere manifestations of demoniac force. They are sent here to tempt us--to test--to torment. Would that I could reach a heaven of warriors, untainted by their sex--!" "Surely, my Tetsujo," interrupted Hagané, gravely, "those of your household bring no torment. I have never known a better wife than Iriya." "I complain not of Iriya," said the other, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice; "but, Lord, had you seen that ingrate that I must call my daughter! Had you seen Yuki an hour since, you would have perceived what the Chinese mean by she-demons." "Yuki!" echoed Hagané, this time in genuine surprise. "Is there not some mistake? Yuki is spirited; but I cannot picture her as a--demon!"